


The Guide: Myna: Near Angela's Bar

by moody_trans_detective



Series: Rogueass Galaxy [45]
Category: Rogue Galaxy
Genre: Drinking, Gen, Non-Consensual Groping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:08:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29148723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moody_trans_detective/pseuds/moody_trans_detective
Summary: Kisala tries to get Jaster drunk for reasons.
Series: Rogueass Galaxy [45]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956043
Kudos: 1





	The Guide: Myna: Near Angela's Bar

“Who was that guy?” Jaster slid into a bar stool, wondering whether the bartender had any information.

She sighed.

“Gale,” she said sadly.

The Quan a few stools down drained his entire glass, despite the bartender having just pushed it toward him.

“Don’t talk about Gale,” he said. “Another.”

Jaster would have pitied him if he hadn’t been sporting a Longardian-style prosthetic. He could tell Gale had meant something to both him and the bartender. Next to him, Kisala slid into a seat.

“Could we get a couple drinks here?” she asked, tone suddenly sweet. “A Longardian Lament Triple Grog Bomb for him, and an Alistian Sea Breeze here.” She paused. “And get yourself something, too.”

Jaster glanced at her as she pulled out zehn, not sure what she was doing, but she’d ordered him one of the strongest mixed drinks around and herself something that was mostly coconut water. Which, he’d learned, was never a good sign.

“What about a freebie for an old man?” asked the archaeologist on Kisala’s other side.

Kisala sat bolt upright in her stool. Jaster saw murder in her eyes, but she pushed it away.

“Sorry, not today,” she said pleasantly. “Jaster, will you switch seats with me? I want to be near a war hero.”

Jaster was tempted to tell her no, but figured the reason she wanted to switch was because the old archaeologist had touched her. He held back a sigh, switched. When he glanced at Burton, the man winked at him. Also not a good sign.

“My, you look capable,” he said.

The bartender slid their drinks over and leaned back, sipping on a crisp looking white wine. While Jaster was looking her way he discovered Burton was not picky with who he felt like touching; he slid a hand over Jaster’s thigh. Jaster shoved it away, held back a sigh.

Jaster decided he wanted the drink. He had a sip.

“I’m no war hero,” said the Quan.

Jaster had a bigger sip.

“Deego…” began the bartender, then shook her head.

“Deego,” said Kisala. She took a tiny sip of her drink. “You work in the mines?”

“We need an ID card,” said Jaster, shoving Burton’s hand away again and having another drink. “Can we borrow yours?”

Deego looked at the bartender like he wanted her to save him. She pursed her lips, swirled her wine, crossed her arms. Jaster noticed Kisala staring at her cleavage, then followed her gaze briefly before he felt Burton’s hand on him again, this time resting on his ass and lower back. He reached back and plucked it off, hoping it looked like he was scratching an itch. He was almost grateful now Kisala had bought him the drink as he raised it to his lips again.

“I’m sure I can come to some sort of agreement with you,” said Kisala, leaning in.

Jaster rubbed his face. She was trying to bed this fucking Longardian soldier three times her size.

“Kisala,” he said.

“You want a card?” Deego didn’t even look their way. “You can just buy one. Corbis sells them.”

“Oh, good,” said Kisala, though Jaster thought he probably felt more relieved than she did. She turned to the bartender. “You must be Angela.”

Burton rested his hand on Jaster again. He had a drink. He gave up. This asshole was just going to keep violating his personal space and his desires and short of challenging him or moving, Jaster was stuck plucking his hand off him every few minutes. He drank instead. He was beginning to feel it, a little.

“Yes,” said Angela. She had another sip of wine. “You want to go to the mines? What for?”

“If they had any spirit of adventure at all, they’d go for the tablet,” said Burton. Everyone turned to look at him but Jaster, who was pretending he didn’t exist.

“Yes, we’re here for the tablet,” said Jaster.

“Would you like another?” asked Kisala, even though Jaster had a good third of his drink left.

“That’s not—”

“He’ll have another.”

Angela arched an eyebrow at Jaster but moved to mix him up another strong drink.

“Oho, what a good idea, brace up for a bit of action,” said Burton.

It was then Jaster decided both of them wanted him drunk.

“Kisala, I’m not—”

“It’s not poisoned,” she said, snagging the glass from Angela. She had a sip and passed it to him. “See? But you have to finish the one you’ve got first.”

She stared at him, waiting. Jaster downed it, pushed the glass forward.

“Thanks,” he said to Angela.

“Good thing we know where to get a card,” said Kisala, sipping her drink. “We can relax for a bit. Unwind. Get a little tension off. Are you going to want a third?”

“I haven’t even touched this one.” And Jaster felt the first enough to think he should leave it at that. It had tasted strong enough for two and a half, maybe three drinks. He needed to be able to fight, after all. And he had no intention of letting Burton corner him in the restroom.

“Well, I’m buying, so let me know.”

“Kisala,” Jaster muttered when Angela turned back to get Deego another, “I’m still not sleeping with you. Stop trying to get me drunk.”

“I’m not!” Kisala gaped at him.

“Well, if a third is too much to spend, I can chip in,” said Burton.

“You were just asking if I’d buy you a drink,” said Kisala.

Burton shrugged.

“Never hurts to try, eh? If this young, durable man here wants a third, I personally will sponsor his next round.”

“Maybe we should just get going and get the ID card,” said Jaster.

“And miss out on what Myna has to offer?” asked Kisala. She gave a little giggle. “Oh, I _like_ this drink.” She teased the rim of the glass with a finger. Jaster found himself drawn to it. Damn it, he did want to sleep with her again, and it pissed him off that he couldn’t. He wasn’t going to budge on it. It didn’t matter what she did. There would always be other people to fuck.

“You two going to need a room?” asked Angela.

Somehow, Burton’s hand got tighter on Jaster’s ass.

“You have a room?” asked Kisala.

“Only for desperate people.”

“It’s her guest room,” said Deego, like he’d been there and was sad about it.

“Want to go up and rest?” asked Kisala.

“No,” said Jaster. What the hell. He had a sip of this new drink, too.

“But I’m tipsy, Jaster. This drink…my head…If you just laid me in bed a while and—”

“No.” He had another drink. He knew she wasn’t tipsy. He, however, was. Maybe a little beyond that. He should stop.

“Angela,” said Kisala, turning her attention to the bartender. “Maybe you could take me up…?”

Angela’s gaze flicked to Jaster. She’d know how strong she’d made a drink. He shook his head slightly.

“I don’t want to come between you and your boyfriend,” said Angela.

“Ah, no, we’re not—” began Jaster.

“Maybe I _do_ want you to come between us,” said Kisala, and giggled again. “If you know what I mean.” She leaned forward on the bar. “I’ve always wanted…” She trailed off, put a hand up as though to block what she was saying from Jaster, but he heard anyway. “He used to do it for money. Think of what we could do and it would seem _normal_ to him!”

Angela didn’t blink.

“You’re a bit young for me,” she said.

“Age is a state of mind,” declared Burton, leaning closer to Jaster. “Isn’t it, m’boy?”

Jaster had another drink, refusing to look at the archaeologist.

“Please,” said Kisala. “I want to be with a woman. A _real_ woman…”

Angela stared at her, shook her head like she couldn’t believe Kisala was still pushing this.

“You and me and him just sounds so…memorable. Doesn’t it, Jaster?”

His eyes met Angela’s for a moment.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, then mumbled, “Kisala, just stop.”

“If you’re looking for years of expertise,” said Burton. “I humbly offer my services to both you and your whore boyfriend.” He punctuated his proclaimed generosity by pinching Jaster.

That was it. Jaster was done. He needed to get out of this bar before he murdered an old man. He stood.

“Well, I’m off to buy a mine ID. Wouldn’t want Corbis to close shop while we’re sitting here chatting.”

“You haven’t finished your drink,” said Kisala, sounding offended.

“You can have it.”

“No way.” What flashed through her eyes confirmed for him she knew how alcoholic it was. She regained composure fast, though, and smiled at him. “It’s not my taste at all.”

“Might as well drink it,” said Burton. “A beautiful woman bought it for you.”

The both of them really did want him drunk. Well, Jaster was annoyed now, and still had no intention of fucking either of them. But he wanted them both to just drop it. He grabbed his drink off the bar counter and threw it back, the liquid burning its way down his throat, then slammed the glass down on the gleaming metal surface.

“There. Done. Off to buy an ID card at Corbis’s.”

Kisala gaped at him.

“You are _not_ getting all the way to some shop after all that.”

“Hah.” Jaster put his hand on his hip. He’d definitely had this much before and still had been required to perform. Some clients had been very into him drinking with them. He’d definitely be feeling it for a while and wouldn’t be in peak condition, but he’d still get around. “Watch me.”

“And I thought Zegram was the alcoholic,” said Kisala. She sipped her drink.

“My aim might be off. You’ll have to kill more zombies yourself.”

Kisala glared at him.

“Why don’t you go with them?” Angela took Deego’s empty glass. “Look out for them. A couple of kids in this place…”

“With the Morarty gang around, the streets are dangerous,” said Deego, agreeing. “I’ll go with you.”

He stood. Jaster wasn’t going to argue with it. Fewer beasts for him to deal with, and Kisala might not be so demanding with another person around. When he looked at her, she sighed.

“All right,” she said and got up to follow them out.

Jaster noticed she’d left a quarter of her drink still in her glass.


End file.
